CHAPTER XXIII. PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED. A Fable. I SHALL not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau,* 'Tis clear that they were always able Must have a most uncommon skull. It chanced then, on a winter's day, To forestal sweet St. Valentine, In many an orchard, copse, and grove, And with much twitter, and much chatter, At length a bullfinch, who could boast 66 'My friends, be cautious how ye "The subject upon which we meet ; "I fear we shall have winter yet." treat A finch, whose tongue knew no control, *It was one of the whimsical speculations of this philosopher, that all fables which ascribe reason and speech to animals should be withheld from children, as being only vehicles of deception. But what child was ever deceived by them, or can be, against the evidence of his senses? "By his good will, would keep us single "My dear Dick Redcap, what say you?' Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, brideling, Of an immediate conjugation. All pair'd, and each pair built a nest. But though the birds were thus in haste, Grew quarrelsome, and peck'd each other; Except that they had ever met; INSTRUCTION. Misses, the tale that I relate Cowper. CHAPTER XXIV. THE NEEDLESS ALARM. A Tale. THERE is a field through which I often pass, Which rural gentlemen call sport divine. Nor yet the hawthorn bore her berries red, Though ears she gave me two, gave me no ear. His lamp now planted on heav'n's topmost arch, And heedless whither, to that field I came, Ere yet with ruthless joy the happy hound Told hill and dale that Reynard's track was found, Or with the high-rais'd horn's melodious clang Sheep graz'd the field; some with soft bosom press'd The herb as soft, while nibbling stray'd the rest ; Nor noise was heard but of the hasty brook, Struggling, detain❜d in many a pretty nook. All seem'd so peaceful, that from them convey'd To me their peace by kind contagion spread. But when the huntsman, with distended cheek, 'Gan make his instrument of music speak, And from within the wood that crash was heard, Though not a hound from whom it burst appear'd, The sheep recumbent, and the sheep that graz'd, All huddling into phalanx, stood and gaz'd, Admiring terrified the novel strain, [again; Then cours'd the field around, and cours'd it round But, recollecting with a sudden thought, That flight in circles urg'd advanc'd them nought, Perceives in ev'ry thing that lives a tongue; That serve mankind or shun them, wild or tame; He spells them true by intuition's light, This truth premis'd was needful as a text, * Two woods belonging to John Throckmorton, Esq. Their periwigs of wool, and fears combin'd, Sure ne'er to want them, mathematic truths; When thus a mutton, statelier than the rest, A ram, the ewes and wethers sad address'd: "Friends! we have liv'd too long. I never heard "Sounds such as these, so worthy to be fear'd. "Could I believe, that winds for ages pent "In earth's dark womb have found at last a vent, "And from their prison-house below arise "With all these hideous howlings to the skies, "I could be much compos'd, nor should appear "For such a cause to feel the slightest fear. "Yourselves have seen, what time the thunder roll'd "All night, me resting quiet in the fold. "Or heard we that tremendous bray alone, "I should expound the melancholy tone; "Should deem it by our old companion made, "The ass; for he, we know, has lately stray'd, "And being lost, perhaps, and wand'ring wide, "Might be suppos'd to clamour for a guide. "But ah! those dreadful yells what soul can hear, "That owns a carcase, and not quake for fear? "Demons produce them, doubtless; brazen-claw'd "And fang'd with brass the demons are abroad; "I hold it, therefore, wisest and most fit, "That, life to save, we leap into the pit." Him answer'd then his loving mate and true, But more discreet than he, a Cambrian ewe. "How! leap into the pit our life to save? "To save our life leap all into the grave? "For can we find it less? Contemplate first "The depth how awful! falling there, we burst. "Or should the brambles, interpos'd, our fall "In part abate, that happiness were small; "For with a race like theirs no chance I see "Of peace or ease to creatures clad as we. "Meantime, noise kills not. Be it dapple's bray, "Or be it not, or be it whose it may, |